Mountain Freedom

Takin’ cattle to the mountains makes good mem’ries
Winter snows have left the grasses green and lush
The old cows, remembering, need no pushing up the trail
Up, up we ride through stands of aspen and oak brush

The trail is rocky, windy, all the horses fresh
Above us those aspens flutter in the breeze
That old red cow, like before, takes the lead and sets the pace
Up, up we ride through music played by trembling leaves

The forest always throws new shadows as we climb
Giant firs and spruces flank the trail now
Cows and cowboys are strung out for a mile; it’s hard to tell
For the last hour it’s just been me and a spotted cow

There are glimpse now and then of a far-off peak
With a tree line drawn distinctly on its side
“Baldies” they are named for they rise where trees won’t grow
A stone faced watchman marking progress as we ride

Way up high there are meadows filled with sunshine
And the old cows, remembering, start to roam
The cowboys watch from horseback, reins held loose, hearts are filled
As the cattle quickly claim their summer home

Takin’ cattle to the mountains makes good mem’ries
With men you know and trust but seldom get to see
Nothing makes for lasting friendships like following some cows
Up a mountain, where once again, we all are free.